Separate Spheres
by brokensocks
Summary: Everyone knows that Hisana married Byakuya Kuchiki, one of the most powerful Shinigami in Seireitei. However, the 'yakuza' bit was left out.
1. The Beginning

The moon shone brightly and beautifully but was obscured by thick murky clouds while a faint stream of people filed into the meeting hall of the Kuchiki estate. Several of them donned Western-style suits and others showed preference towards traditional attire. The immense hall was illuminated albeit not glaringly bright by candle-lit lanterns that were hung up on the walls in various positions. As they took their seats on the plush silk poufs that were aligned around a long rectangular table indispensably designed for gatherings such as these, tense murmurs took place.

"Did you hear about what happened earlier this week?"

"No, I haven't."

"Neither have I, but I suppose that's what we'll be discussing."

"Do you mean that whole issue with the Kyouraku family?"

"Is that it?"

"Hush!"

The whispers died away immediately once the great oak doors swung open upon entrance of the Kuchiki clan's head, Byakuya Kuchiki, accompanied by his grandfather and advisor, Ginrei Kuchiki. It was rather ironic that he was the last to arrive in the room despite the assemblage taking place in his own residence. Still, he made a great impression whilst the shadows on his face lifted as he crossed the threshold into the softly incandescent room, the candle flames' reflection giving the stoic man's kenseikan a saturated glow.

The oyabun waited until the elder was seated before taking a place for himself at the end of the long table. His perceptive purple-gray eyes surveyed the audience with a cursory glance before beginning. He did not waste time with greetings and cut straight to the point.

"As you all have heard, one of judges of the Council of 46 has passed away. There have been several candidates vying to fill in this position, but none of them seem to fully meet the requirements."

Mouths were closed and ears and eyes were open despite the old news.

"The Central 46 has been having trouble making a proper choice for such an office because of lack of skill amongst nominees. But there is one man who may be able to do the job without incompetence: Sousuke Aizen."

The name was not completely foreign to the majority of the assembly. However, all begged to know how this had anything to do with the Kuchiki family's operations.

"He is not a bad suggestion. He has served before in the Court Guards for the past two centuries and he is as clever as he is powerful. The only reason why he has not been nominated yet is because of the qualms distilled in the other judges due to his youth and supposed lack of experience."

There was another brief pause before Byakuya carried on.

"In order to 'prove his worth', Aizen has seen to it that the 'scum of Seireitei' be flushed out. In his little campaign, he has called for tax cuts, thorough drug inspection, cease and desist of yakuza activity, and more brutal prison sentences." He stopped and turned to the right side of the table where his younger cousin was sitting. "Minato, if you please."

"Yes, boss." A young man clad in a dark gray suit complete with a navy blue tie rose to his feet at the cue. His inky black hair was not nearly as long as his older cousin's but he too had lengthy fringes that casually but gracefully swept to the left side of his face. He had with him a copy of the daily newspaper and thrust it onto the table for the rest of the clan to see as it slid across the polished wooden expanse. Sprawled on the front cover was a large picture of a tawny haired man with a benign smile more prominent than his black thick-rimmed glasses. The headline read:

**TERROR IN KUJAKU DISTRICT IS OVER:**

**KYOURAKU FAMILY CAUGHT REDHANDED**

_For the past one hundred and fifty years, many in the Kujaku district constantly found themselves at the mercy of the Kyouraku Clan, notorious for gaining votes in governmental positions through bribery (mainly by cannabis distribution) and blackmail. Their influence in the district's political affairs has hit a notable octave, going as far as manipulating and eventually pushing the mayor out of office._

_As the family began its fourteen year reign of terror, residents would be 'arrested', often during the night, for presumed resistance efforts, suspicion, or betrayal. Police aid began to dwindle as officers' families too were targeted and threatened._

_Just when all hope seemed lost, Sousuke Aizen (nicknamed 'the Espada') managed to arrange an exceptional law-enforcing squad, designed especially for situations like (see page 4A for more)_

More whispers buzzed around the table like the fervent beating of a hummingbird's wings. The fall of a non-ally was no business of theirs, what did they care?

"The Kyouraku family," said Minato loudly and clearly to disperse the subtle chatter, "is no concern of ours. However, it is one of the Kyouraku family's _and _one of our dearest and closest associates, the Ukitake clan, that should interest us very much."

An uncomfortable silence fell like an ax.

"Jyuushirou Ukitake is a very good childhood friend of Shunsui Kyouraku's. It is only obvious that their households have had a bond for the longest time, a time that may transcend even the Kuchiki clan's beginnings. Because of such close relations, the Ukitake family has been giving out generous loans for funding whatever projects Kyouraku may be putting into action. In conclusion, Ukitake is a bridge between the Kyouraku clan and the Kuchiki clan." He sat down and a female to his right rose.

"Aizen has raided the Kyouraku headquarters. It is certain that they confiscated their documents. Such documents would keep records on transactions made, shippings, and contacts."

Another family member, this time a wide-shouldered man with a strong jaw and squinty eyes, leapt to his feet. "It is only a matter of time before they hunt down the Ukitake family and other confederates of the Kyouraku family. Once they have stormed _their_ quarters, we are next in line." His gaze swept all around the table, viewing nodding heads and grim stares.

Byakuya tilted his head towards the standing pair. "Thank you. You may be seated. It is as they say, several anonymous spies have been sent to observe Aizen's plans. All have been captured. This man knows what he is doing and he may be a threat to the family's safety and economics. Said issue can not be confined only to this meeting hall, we will have to meet with our other collaborators and determine the best action to take in order to pull out and dispose of this thorn."

Once his sentence had finished, a sallow-faced and rather scrawny man jumped up, his zanpakutou bumping against his bony thigh at the sudden movement. "Boss, are you really that frightened? He is just one person with a herd of sheep at his disposal! The Kuchiki family has never fallen! There is nothing to fear, we merely shall send assassins after his head!"

The oyabun's face did not twitch as he regarded this statement in a deadpanned voice. "Be careful of what you say, Kichiro. Such laziness and carelessness has paved the way to destruction. We are the Kuchiki Clan. We do not tolerate any opposition and will cut down our foes. And about gathering with the other families," he started on a different tangent, "I will need at least two accompaniments."

Minato straightened to a stand. "I will go with you, boss."

"As will I," rose the woman next to him before the others could.

Byakuya closed and opened his eyes slowly to acknowledge their proffers. "It is settled then. All of you, be on your guard and avoid giving out crucial family information. Meeting adjourned."

All members stood in unison. "Yes, boss." They gathered their belongings and began to leave. Only Byakuya and his grandfather were left standing in the hall as their relatives weaved around them to exit.

Byakuya eyed the elder with a hint of curiosity. "You said nothing during the entire meeting."

The white old head shook itself gruffly. "There is nothing to say. This is your generation's problem now."

Byakuya blinked. "What a negligent thing to say."

"Not entirely." The old man looked around briskly to ensure that all of their kin had departed and that they were the only ones remaining. "Byakuya, times are getting quite dangerous. I'm certain the both of us can sense imminent struggle."

Byakuya could not help but feel a bit irritated with Ginrei's suddenly wary attitude. "There is no need for you to worry. This is my generation's problem."

"Don't get cheeky with me."

"I am being frank with you. I am taking all the steps necessary to affirm our family's security. At the same time, I have no doubt that—"

"All I am asking you to do, Byakuya, is to be careful. Take no risks and keep to the clan's code. Your father may have been a bit daring, yes, but that does not mean—"

"If you assume that I am developing any forms of weakness due to the death of my predecessor, then you are gravely mistaken." Ginrei saw something flash across his grandson's eyes upon introduction of the sensitive topic. "What is done is done. My only thoughts now focus on the Kuchiki's continuing success."

Ginrei sighed. "Yes, yes. That is what I was thinking about too."

Byakuya's stolid expression requested elaboration.

"In order for the Kuchiki family to conventionally carry on, we need direct descendants."

Byakuya lazily raised an eyebrow. "What are you suggesting?"

"You know perfectly well what I am suggesting. _Find_. _A_. _Wife_!" The old man's tone became increasingly sharper with each syllable. Byakuya, however, physically waved off the suggestion as though he was half-heartedly scaring away a gnat.

"Save that issue for later. My reishi is still intact."

"Nevertheless, it is still important. You might want a bride from an already powerful and well-off family. Yes, perhaps the Shiba girl…" added the old Kuchiki thoughtfully. "It would be a great step in mending old feuds…"

The thought of Kaien becoming Byakuya's brother-in-law certainly left a bad taste in his mouth. His disgust was not evident on his countenance but he did not conceal it in his tone. "That is for _me_ to decide."

"But you can not forever postpo—"

"The night is waning, Grandfather. Good night."


	2. The Flower

It was much cooler now that it was late afternoon, but some still remained at their workplaces or inside their homes. Thus no more than five customers were seated in the old but spotless dining section of the Blue Crane, a small, locally well-known restaurant occupying one of the more modest corners of Seireitei.

A young woman sat listlessly on a vacant table, trying not to doze off after a long night of barely any sleep. Despite her efforts, her head lolled from side to side occasionally, sending her black bangs skating over her eyes. Her coal black hair was tousled but neat in a strange way (perhaps her coiffure naturally fell between her eyes and sprung up at the ends) and her pale and pasty skin was an unmistakable sign of an anxious and hard-pressed girl. Sleep would have been a good remedy for Hisana, but not when her dreams were frequently haunted by a bundle of cloth, abandoned in the middle of a field where wolves and hawks prowled…

But she had been lucky. The maiden was offered an opportunity to work behind the pristine gleaming walls of a civilized society. The fact that the restaurant owners were from the slums themselves and labor recruited from Rukongai was cheap helped her gain pity and a minimum wage, which was much more than what she earned snitching coins carelessly dropped on the street by an unknowing master. If she had kept her dear baby sister a little while longer, they would have been able to live Seireitei together, even if handling a job and child single-handedly would have been hard.

_I'm the worst_, Hisana could not help but muse. _Even thieving murderers and prostitutes still keep their kinsmen by their side… but I…_

"Hey! Are you asleep or what?" called a reprimanding but amused voice. Hisana jerked herself from her half-doze and straightened herself to gaze face-to-face with one of her employers.

"Miss Rangiku, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—"

The strawberry-blonde grinned benevolently to excuse her blunder. "It's all right, I was just impressed. You were still sitting upright but then you started leaning to the side all the same… sort of like a sideways 'L', you know?"

Hisana smiled sheepishly and diverted her eyes, embarrassed and amused as well.

"If you're that tired, you can go to the back and take a nap. We won't have much business until later tonight, I'll call you when I need a hand and more customers start pouring in." Rangiku turned away towards the reception counter, her endowed bosoms swaying with her in her wake.

"Are you sure you don't need any help? I can still work."

Rangiku signed and pursed her thick lips. "All right, if you insist. I'll give you some work."

Hisana slid off the table and hastily brushed the front of her dress with her small hands. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Go to bed."

"Huh? I—" Hisana was cut off by a raised eyebrow and she immediately understood. "W-will do, ma'am. Please let me know when things get busy."

"G'night, dear," called Rangiku as Hisana made out the back. The door slid shut and Hisana slowly ascended the steps that were almost immediately adjacent to the back door. There was a small room upstairs available for workers like Hisana, who had no housing but not without a fee of one fifth of their paychecks. She did not complain about this demand, she spent very little of her earned money except for necessities such as food and once in a while, clothing. She hoarded the rest in a tattered paper bag under her futon for the "Operation: Find My Sister" fund.

She finally reached the Western-style door at the top of the steps and grasped the doorknob. She was surprised to find it ajar just a slight bit but brushed the instance aside as an adventitious mistake and made note to herself to implore her coworkers to be less neglectful next time. She pushed the door open and upon stepping inside, a bucket of recycled washwater fell out of nowhere and landed flawlessly on top its target, enclosing her head completely.

"Ha!" She heard a voice and a scuffling of feet. "That's what you get… for…" The voice's triumph petered into guilt as she bewilderedly dislodged her noggin from the tin bucket, sputtering and coughing. Had it not been for the greasy water driveling all over her visage, she would have shot the perpetrator a bloodshot glare. Toushirou Hitsugaya shifted uneasily from foot to foot, too ashamed to face her but too guilty to run away. "I'm sorry, Miss Hisana. I thought you were Hinamori, she usually comes back around this time, you know."

"Yes," she coughed and pushed her sodden hair back. She was too tired to scold Hinamori's "little brother" properly. As close and sibling-like as the white-hair and plum-girl duo was, sometimes their quarrels could get a little out of hand, thus dragging innocent bystanders into their tussles. She decided that she would leave it to Hinamori to sort him out and began to head to the bath immediately. "Be more careful next time and stop fighting."

"But she's the one who—" Once Hisana was inside the washroom, she shut the door.

Hinamori arrived not ten minutes after Hisana did, and immediately blamed Hitsugaya for the watery mess on the ground. Hisana managed to clean herself for the most part and made another note to buy more soap when she received her paycheck. Her kimono was still soiled and foul-smelling but she was forced to wear it, since her only other dress had a rip in the back and needed some repairing. The flat was mostly deserted aside from herself, Hinamori, and Hitsugaya. The others must have gone out to shop or were working downstairs, cooking and serving. She took a seat on the windowsill with her needle and thread and began to work on her ripped kimono as she listened to the two engage in verbal warfare.

"Honestly, Shirou, you need to haul your weight too! It's not cheap living here and I have to support both the both of us!"

"I don't want to be here in the first place! You forced me to come live with you ever since Granny died! I can take care of myself _fine_, and our old house was way better than this stupid, girl-filled apartment!"

"Don't make me laugh! You're just a kid; you can't take care of yourself more than a newborn puppy can go hunting! And there are other boys of your age staying here, why don't you play them?"

"I'm not _that_ little! The other boys are! That's what they are, babies! I want to go home! You don't have to be here either; you can stay in your school's dormitories!"

"You're the one who's being a baby! The reason why I'm staying here is to take care of you! That's what I told Granny I would do!"

An annoyed Hisana's eyes narrowed as she tried to concentrate on her sewing. There was no place in the flat where you could escape their shouting.

"I wish you could leave me in the middle of the woods or something, I can't stand you!"

"Maybe I should!"

"Maybe you shouldn't," interjected Hisana. They both wheeled on her.

"Don't interr—"

"Soul Society's a big place. You two should be happy for just having each other."

Hinamori sighed, unable to say anything snappy to this remark. "You're right." She turned to her beloved half-pint. "Shirou, just grow up a bit, ok? Or maybe you could come to the academy with me, even Miss Rangiku says you've got talent…"

Hitsugaya's face screwed up and he crossed his arms. "No."

"Ugh! You're so hopeless!" Hinamori flung herself onto the window sill next to Hisana. "Hisana, you're an older sister too, right? How do you make your younger siblings stop being a pest?"

"I…" Hisana's thread-loaded needle stopped midway through the cloth it was piercing as her dispiriting thoughts returned to her once more.

Hinamori squirmed uncomfortably and immediately regretted addressing the issue. She had momentarily forgotten her friend's dilemma.

"Well… ah…" uttered Hinamori. Right at that moment, she conveniently remembered something. "Oh, hey, Hisana! The manager told me yesterday that he wanted to meet up with you!"

"Yesterday?" Hisana's eyes widened and she dropped her almost-repaired dress.

"Yeah, I think you might be getting your paycheck."

"Ooh!" groaned Hisana and she flew over to the threshold, briefly slipping in the puddle made by the bucket fiasco and wrenched the door open. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Hinamori blushed. "Sorry," she said abashedly.

Hisana bounced down the stairs three steps at a time and before she knew it, she had zoomed past the landing, through the back, and was headed towards the manager's office. Being late was not condemnable, but she greatly disliked giving the manager reasons to jibe and tease her…

She halted before his door and knocked three times before a musical "Come in," permitted her entrance.

"Excuse me," she said as she slid open the door and closed it behind her, hoping to make this visit as brisk as possible.

There before her sat her other silver-haired employer, Gin Ichimaru. He was comfortably seated on a luxurious pouf with a polished ivory desk that upheld his papers and other supplies. He beckoned to her with a lift of a hand and she knelt gingerly on a separate pouf placed on the opposite side of the desk, preparing herself for nasty comments and knowing but mocking smiles.

"You're a bit late, Miss Hisana," he said in a fake concerned tone. Hisana responded with a stiff nod. "What happened?"

"I, uh," Hisana's mind raced to invent an excuse.

"Miss Hinamori slipped her mind?"

"Ah—"

"It's okay, it's okay," he said loftily, waving his hand to silence her. As if he were reading her mind, he added, "I know 'she can be a little careless at times, but is nonetheless a good and honest worker, and she only needs a chance'…"

"That's—" began Hisana.

"—what you were going to say?" finished Ichimaru.

Hisana felt a bit contemptuous towards Rangiku's husband and could not fathom why such a friendly and outgoing woman could be paired with a sleezy, generally unpleasant person.

"Well, that's beside the point. All I wanted to do was pay you, after all," assured Ichimaru unctuously. He reached over the table, much like the way a viper stretches, and dropped a tiny satchel on the petite woman's lap. She opened it apprehensively and after tersely counting the copper coins, she frowned slightly.

Ichimaru noticed this. "Are you dissatisfied about something, Miss Hisana?"

"It's less than what I had expected," she said truthfully.

Ichimaru shrugged casually. "You should have been expecting that. You broke some dishes last week, remember?"

Hisana jerked her head upwards. "That was an accident!"

"Accidents need to be paid for," smiled Ichimaru pleasantly as though he were a schoolteacher kindly explaining the mysteries of life to an ignorant child. Hisana rebuffed herself inwardly for thinking that the snake-like man before her would have any compassion or sympathy.

Ichimaru sighed in an overly innocent fashion. "You know, sometimes I just don't know what to do. Lately my workers have been getting a bit careless, don't you think? You're not the only one. Just yesterday Miss Hinamori dropped a couple of dishes too." He stood up and paced around slowly. "It's hard enough slipping peasants through the gates for working, with the guards up and about. Plus, waitressing isn't a popular job amongst us educated city folks."

If he was trying to garner pity from Hisana, his serpentine smile was counterproductive.

"At the same time, cute girls like you and Miss Hinamori really haul in the customers. Just like a flower that brings all the bees rushing over. But if mistakes like this keep happening, dear," he grinned broadly at Hisana, who felt her insides twist with disgust, "Someone's gonna hafta go."

"I understand… sir." Hisana was eager to be excused. Her wish was soon granted.

"Well, I s'pose that's all," he concluded. Hisana hastily stood up and made her way to the door. "Oh, wait, don't leave just yet."

Hisana considered pretending she had not heard him but before she knew it she had already stopped in her tracks.

"Make sure you and the other ladies make this place look more than presentable next week."

Hisana turned around. "Sir?"

The manager's smug smile seemed climb further and further up his face. Hisana could not help but be amazed and wondered how it was possible to not break full out into a wide, toothy grin.

"We've got esteemed guests coming."

"Esteemed guests?" echoed Hisana.

"You heard me right. Pass along the message, won't ya?" Ichimaru's smile was consistent as he turned his back on her to resume his previous position at his desk.

_**Thanks for reviewing and faving, folks.**_

_**I'm dying to know who these esteemed guests are.**_


	3. The Guest

_**Darkchocol8807— Yup, this is an AU. I'm sorry, I forgot to write that in the summary.**_

Before anyone in Soul Society knew it, a week had already flown by. The summer heat intensified with each passing day but the night air always provided relief to weary souls. The windows were wide open in the Blue Crane in hopes of absorbing some of this alleviating chill as Hisana walked slowly around a large circular table that occupied the restaurant's largest dining room. She dropped folded napkins and chopsticks neatly into place with a soft _thud_ while Hinamori read the daily paper, huddled in a stooping position next to the ficus jar.

Hisana laid down the last napkin and threw an annoyed glance in Hinamori's direction. "Momo, would you put down that silly thing and help me get the tea cups ready? It won't be good news for you if you're caught dawdling on the job."

"That wouldn't be good news, but _this_ is!" chirped Hinamori as she held up the newspaper with both hands. Hisana squinted and leaned forward from her position, hindered by her mild near-sightedness, and finally plucked the tabloid from her junior's grip. The cover featured none other than Sousuke Aizen and his endless accomplishments.

"Kujaku Distrct, huh? It was a dump to begin with," was Hisana's statement after a quiet thirty seconds of skimming the headlines. The sophisticated kanji barred her from fully understanding the article.

"Yes, but at least that rotten Kyouraku family is out and done with!" answered Hinamori defensively as she swiped back the paper. "Yakuza make me sick! The way they swagger, the things they do… they think that they're all classy yet with the drugs and prostitution and stuff, they couldn't be any better than pigs! Their noses are too high in the air to look around and see all the pain and damage they caused for everyone!"

"That's true," agreed Hisana and began fishing china teacups out of a box. Hinamori rambled on vehemently.

"It's about time someone with power stood up against them! Then they'll be groveling for forgiveness and mercy, which they won't get, I hope. They ought to be imprisoned forever. Sigh… Aizen's got plenty of talent and experience. I wonder why they won't just let him into the Central 46. I bet those old geezers are just jealous of his youth and his…" Her voice trailed off and she turned over the black and white publication so that the man's handsome face smiled up at her from her cradled arms. She began to tenderly trace her fingertips over the photograph.

"Momo, would you _please_ help me arrange the teacups? The guests are going to be here any minute."

"Oh, are they?" The girl looked around wildly for a place to stash her precious newspaper and when none could be located, she merely stuffed it into her girdle, careful not to crease the portrait. "Do you have any idea who they might be?"

"No," replied Hisana speciously as she set the porcelain cups face-down.

"Neither do I. Maybe some hotshot businessmen. What do you think?" replied Hinamori, eager to keep the conversation going. Hisana was rarely this responsive.

"Seireitei tends to have a lot of hotshots, doesn't it?"

"Right," grinned Hinamori. "I suppose you get used to it after a while."

"Mm." Hisana looked at Hinamori briefly but then caught sight of the newspaper again. "Where did you get the paper? I don't remember you subscribing to anything."

"I didn't. I snitched it off of the manager's desk when I was taking out the trash earlier. Just don't tell him, ok?"

Hisana frowned disapprovingly. "You should at least ask him first."

"Who'd want to talk to him in the first place? He's already scamming us with the measly salary he gives us, what difference would a fifty piece newspaper make?" said Hinamori, laying down another snowy-white cup. "Even if I were to ask him, he wasn't in the office."

"He rarely is," affirmed Hisana.

"Yeah, maybe he's a yakuza boss too or something," joked Hinamori. "And this whole restaurant is just a cover-up for whatever dastardly deeds he's committing right now."

Hisana paused. "What if it was?"

"Oh, Hisana! I'm just kidding! Stop taking things so seriously!" retorted Hinamori exasperatedly. "Even if he was up to something sneaky, Ms. Rangiku would put him into place. I trust her."

"Hm…" Hisana attempted to focus on the cup before her in order to escape from such disturbing speculation, but failed. She decided instead to try a hand at idle gossip. "Did you get back to that Kira fellow yet?"

Hinamori's head jerked up. "What about Kira?"

"Nothing, really. He came by our tenant twice before. You were gone both times."

"He did? What did he want?"

"I don't know. He would just knock and ask if you were home. When I told him no, he would get very flustered and apologize for the trouble." Hisana set down one of the cups and drew another from the aging carton.

"Weird. If he wanted to talk with me, why didn't he just do so at school? I have a billion classes with him," said Hinamori with a skeptical look on her face.

"Maybe he did already. Anyway, I can tell that he's quite fond of you," jested Hisana.

Saliva spurted from Hinamori's lips as her speech faltered. "Fond of _me_? We're just friends!"

"Anything you say. Still, I feel sorry for the poor boy, he's no match for _Aizen_…"

Hinamori's cheeks burned crimson. "Sh-shut up!" She playfully shoved her comrade, unfortunately a bit too forcefully. Hisana teetered from the force of the push and calamitously knocked over the remaining several teacups in the faded cardboard box. Both women cringed at the sharp _crash!_ and opened one eye to inspect the disaster.

"Oops…" whispered Hinamori and as if on a sadistic cue, Rangiku opened the door.

"Are you girls done yet? You'd better step it up or…" Her nagging died away at the sight of scattered ebony-white shards and looked at the gaping waitresses.

"Ms. Rangiku! I'm _so_ sorry! It's all my fault, really!" squealed Hinamori. "We were just horsing around and then—"

"Nevermind that, we'll deal with this later," barked Rangiku. "Hisana, get a dustpan. Momo, fetch more teacups. Quickly, _now_!"

"Y-yes ma'am!" The girls flew in two separate directions, anxious to do something for atonement.

---

Three figures walked briskly down the moonlit street with minimum disturbance, save the soft clicks of their hard-sole shoes gently tapping the pavement in their stride. Their stroll continued in silence until arriving at their desired destination, the Blue Crane.

"Right," said Minato. "I believe this is the place."

"Are you serious?" replied Tsubame, the woman who sat beside him during the prior meeting. "We didn't notice the large, blatant, and illuminated sign beforehand. Thank you for pointing it out."

Minato's scowl was visible in the pale light cast by the flickering sign. "All right then, if it was so obvious, why didn't you keep walking?"

"Because you stopped first!"

"Enough with the bickering," cut in Byakuya. "Let us carry on."

Both youngsters bowed their heads abashedly. "Yes, boss."

Byakuya said nothing and strode past the two to cross the truncated gateway leading to the smooth, stony path that paved its way to the door. On either side of the path sat twin green lawns which guarded the flowerbeds. Had it not been so dark a narrow dirt path weaving towards the back could have been visible.

His two accompaniments hustled to catch up to their leader and wriggled out of their shoes before stepping onto the veranda framing the ground floor of the building. Minato held the door open as they entered the restaurant; Tsubame going in first before their oyabun. To the left was an unattended wooden podium on which several wrinkled sheets rested. Once the door slid shut, a slender man ducked out from behind a screen frame, each footfall giving his silver bobcut a subtle bounce.

"Why, welcome to the Blue Crane! We hope you will have a pleasant night here. How many people will it be?"

Byakuya was first to approach the podium, withdrawing a stiff card from his pocket before holding it up for Ichimaru to see. Ichimaru silently took the card and held it up to his squinting eyes before smiling broadly. "Ah! If it isn't Mr. Kuchiki! Hello! It's been quite a while, hasn't it?"

"Quite," Byakuya this time stuck the card into his pressed white shirt's breast pocket. He was no fan of small talk but decided to respond out of courtesy.

"Things nowadays must be rough for you. Forgive me if I'm not up to date on the times, I seem to be constantly misplacing my papers. But I have heard that recently the Aomori family has fallen as well. Weren't they a great factor in the Kuchiki finances?"

"Not so loud!" hissed Tsubame, stealing a glance around the premises. The other customers appeared to be too interested in their own company and entertainment that they did not pay heed to the new arrivals.

Ichimaru chuckled apologetically but smugly. "Of course, of course. Please excuse my insensitivity. Don't worry, I'll bring you fellows to a nice and safe place to discuss these matters. If you would follow me." He spun around toward a dark hall behind the podium, his robes flapping after him. The recent party followed the manager wordlessly, but the conversation persisted.

"It's rather bothersome, isn't it, to be skulking around the streets during hours like these. I suppose that it's no longer safe to wander out in the open?"

"We've experienced some inconveniences," was Byakuya's deadpanned answer.

"Tut, tut. Hopefully this mess would be over soon. Then the yakuza families could have Seireitei under their thumb once again." Whether this comment was sarcastic or not was indecipherable.

The lack of reply did not deter Ichimaru's outward levity. After descending a slight staircase, a soft yellow glow could be seen snaking out across the hallway from a door crack.

"There you are, gentlemen, oh, and lady, don't fret, others have yet to come. Please tell the others to be patient—refreshments will arrive shortly." Ichimaru's head dipped into a cordial bow.

"Thank you for your arrangements, Mr. Ichimaru." Byakuya led his underlings through the door.

"Oh, not at all," hummed Ichimaru. After the door swung shut, his narrow eyes cracked opened to reveal ice-blue irises gleaming out of the eyelids. "It's my pleasure."

---

"Well, ok." Kyouraku leaned back listlessly in his chair, his hairy bare feet resting on the table. "I screwed up. Maybe I was taking it a little easy. I didn't expect that guy to show up anytime soon. And even if I did, how would I know what he could do?"

"A little easy? You take everything a little easy. For you to call something a little easy, how easy could it have been?" barked Nanao reproachfully. Her graceful fingers darted up to her nose bridge, readjusting her glasses. This proved to a habit when she was agitated.

"Nanao… haven't you scolded me about this before? You can be really mean. You never miss a chance to criticize me," pouted Kyouraku. "Kick me when I'm down, won't you?"

"Yes, now come on, Ms. Ise," chided Ukitake from the opposite side of the table. "If there's a tear in a shouji, we don't widen it do we? Let's try to fix the problem. That's what we're here for, isn't it?"

"Yeah, Nanao," whimpered Kyouraku, clinging to Ukitake's allayment as though it were a life ring. "Hate the sin, not the sinner. Besides," Kyouraku's pout transformed into a playful smile as he loosened the front of his kimono even more. "I can make it up to you later."

Nanao swung the spine of the hefty binder she was holding down on his legs with such strength that there was a sickening crunch as his knees bent the wrong way. "The source of the sin is the one that should be purged!"

"All right, all right, it's about time we began!" called Ukitake over the chorus of Kyouraku's bloodcurdling howls. "Um, I don't mean to play the role of the coordinator or anything… If anyone would like to say something, just speak up. We don't have much time for awkwardness."

"Yes," boomed a deep voice as though it were amplified through a hollow basin. Which it was, as all heads flickered over to the heavily armored Komamura's end of the table. "Is the head of the Kurotsuchi clan not coming?"

"No, he declined the proposal," spoke Unohana softly, her voice like a feather that floated around the room. "He claims that he has no interest in Aizen or the future of the yakuza rule."

"It's just like him," remarked Tousen bitterly from Komamura's side. "He cares little for others. He only took over the Urahara family to sate his own curiosity for research and other sick experiments."

"I don't really know or like him too much, but it _is_ a rather miserably small company," noted Kyouraku as he scanned the table, blood still oozing from his kneecaps. "The Shibas are absent too. The more the merrier they say…"

"Well, it can't be helped," shrugged Ukitake. "Just the other day I commissioned the Fon family to keep an eye on Aizen. According to several reports, he plans on reforming the police force and have a thorough search of the Ondori Bank's staff."

"Except," added Unohana. "He's acted sooner than we thought. The Aomori family is in flight now."

The corner of Byakuya's eye caught Minato's grip on his knees tightening. He then turned toward Unohana. "The Aomori are in the Kuchiki's care now. As long as they have a safe place to operate, we can continue giving loans."

"That is a relief, but," interrupted Komamura. "We should note that not only is Aizen selectively picking off several clans, he's also getting to the heart of the matter. Since he already seized Ondori Bank, it means that he wishes to ruin the lot of us financially."

"Smoking us out of our burrows, is he?" sighed Ukitake. He then motioned to a young mustard-haired girl seated at his left much to the chagrin of a larger male at his right. The young lady nodded in a determined fashion and presented him a folder.

"An outright assassination would be unwise, seeing that the common people have so much trust in him. They'll surely revolt. If we can not control the people, then our clans are as good as gone. But there is one factor that we can probably use against this Aizen fellow to destabilize the status quo," continued Ukitake as he flipped through the folder until he had reached the desired packet. "Apparently, Aizen is developing a new weapon but one that would violate all laws of Seireitei."

"What do you mean by that?" questioned Tousen.

"Let me clarify myself; perhaps it's not a weapon after all. I'm not sure how to put it, and neither can the Fon family. It's just their deduction and they've done a good job so far, so I trust them. They managed to slip out some research papers of his in his office last night, but it's all written in code. The few given diagrams display something of a spherical shape. It could be anything, actually. Anything from a building to a weapon but if we're judging from a worst case scenario, then it is a weapon." Ukitake held up one of the papers for all of them to see.

"How can a ball be a weapon? Is it a bomb?" probed Kyouraku.

"We honestly don't know what it is, but the fact that he's made no mention of this to the public or to anyone, really, can mean that he's taking extra effort to keep it secret. Not even the research institutes he contacted are government regulated." Ukitake shrugged again. "Maybe he'll make an announcement of this later, but his actions are much too shady for us to assume that he'll be using it for the common good."

"Oh, I see now," said Nanao. "You think if we bring this to light, it'll unnerve the people. Are you sure they're going to believe their public enemy just like that?"

"No," replied Ukitake. "I'm proposing that we plan to successfully upstage Aizen. If we can do that, the government will be in such turmoil that we can take charge once more instead of living in the shadows like this."

"I disagree," frowned Unohana. "Aizen is moving too fast. We should get rid of him as soon as possible. If we were to take over right after his death, then we could establish a rule before the civilians have time to counterattack."

"I think the best option we have is to perhaps upstage him," said Tousen. "That would be the path of least bloodshed."

"It is also the path of most risks," butted in Unohana. "The most of us are already in immediate danger."

"But who's going to be the one to kill him?" asked Kyouraku. "If any of us were to do it, it would be too obvious."

"Byakuya, you haven't said anything," said Ukitake. "What do you suggest?"

The Kuchiki boss tilted his head slightly to the left, weighing the odds. If it was a fight they wanted, he was sure he could handle it; his clan was well-trained. They were running out of time, after all. At the same time, the conclusion of such a battle would be uncertain…

"I say we first investigate Aizen's actions. Let us see if we can use this 'weapon', or whatever it may be, for ourselves. If that gets us nowhere, then we will simply eradicate him and his followers."

"Well, I suppose that sounds good enough," nodded Ukitake. "What do you guys think?"

"If we are to only observe him, that would be too time-consuming," answered Komamura. "I say we also make plans for battle at the same time."

"Well then, these duties can be distributed," said Unohana amiably. "Any volunteers for spying?"

"I've already got a contract," replied Ukitake. "I'll take care of that. But Byakuya, your family is more spread out. Perhaps you'll get a better news feed. You should help out."

"Wait, what do I do?" inquired Kyouraku. "Well, I can't do anything, can I? I'm already out of the game, right? I don't have to do anything, right?"

"No, you can contribute the remnants of your fighting force to my family," said Komamura. "You still have some use."

"And you can contribute the remnants of your inheritance to my family for funding whatever injuries that might be acquired as an outcome of all this. I run a hospital, you know," gleamed Unohana with a gentle smile. The atmosphere grew heavy and dark around her, daring anyone to defy her wish.

"You're just extorting me!"

"It's all right, it's all right," sighed Ukitake. "It's just for now. Everyone will be compensated later."

"_If_ things go our way," reminded Tousen. "I will keep an eye on Aizen as well. His office is not far from one of my headquarters."

"Well, I'm glad these things could work out!" Ukitake smiled. They all rose to their feet, ready to go. "I'm positive we have everyone's word on this, right?"

"Yes, you are," said Byakuya. He then made his way to the door. "Tsubame, Minato."

"Yes sir." Without another word, the Kuchiki trio took their leave, determined to return to the safety of their estate before further attention was attracted.

The restaurant was more abandoned than it was forty-five minutes ago. There were several customers huddled away at their alcoves and not more than two waitresses wiping miscellaneous tabletops with discolored rags.

They returned to the lobby with the wooden podium, Tsubame this time opening the door. However, they did not leave quite yet, noticing that their leader's pace was slowing. "Boss? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." This time his pace stalled completely. "I need to use the restroom."

"Oh. Then shall I go with you?" Minato's hand instinctively flew to the hilt of his zanpakutou.

"It is a matter I can handle myself." He then began to turn away, walking down another covert hallway to their right. "Stay right there and wait for my return."

"Are you sure it's safe to go alone?" Tsubame's tone was concerned and suspicious.

"My orders are for you to stay here." The last they saw of their boss as he disappeared down the hallway was his coal-black locks swishing around the corner.

"Boss!" called out Minato but was immediately cuffed by his counterpart.

"Stop screaming! You know him, once his mind is made up, it's made up."

"That's not it," The young man massaged the side of his head. "The bathroom is the other way…"

_**I must apologize for the tardy update. For some reason this chapter took eons to write. Please forgive me!**_

_**And twelve reviews already? You dudes are swell.**_


	4. The Rendezvous

The darkness of the corridor began to subside as it stretched on toward the quieter and more isolated sectors of the eatery. The lacquered porch on which he stood was now fully basked in the lunar light, dying the surroundings a ghostly lapis. The veranda framed a homely courtyard, with nothing to parade but an untrimmed lawn complete with a couple of juniper bushes. A cherry tree or two was present, rich with maroon and violet hues granted by the summer season.

His gait broke when he spotted a lone silhouette leaning against one of the scratchy wooden pillars supporting the eaves. As he moved closer, he could discern that it was a woman, a sleeping woman. Her skin was as pallid as the moon shining above and her hair as dark as the night surrounding them. Her face twitched sporadically, indicating that her nap was a restless one and the blotches under her eyes told him that such slumber was usual.

He continued to approach the woman until he was a mere few inches from her frail configuration, unsure whether or not he should disturb the sleeping beauty. After tentative pause, he finally extended his hand and gently tapped her bony shoulder and took one step back to observe the results of this catalyst.

She woke almost instantly, rubbing the sand from her pewter eyes and groggily straightened into a stand.

"Hu-wha? I must've—" The sleep-induced blur cleared from her vision and her eyes focused on the aristocratic man before her.

"Lord Byakuya!" she cried and immediately flung her wiry arms around his torso, burying her face in his sable-black tie.

Initially taken back at such a candid expression of affection, Byakuya froze in her embrace, and then slowly melted into the gesture. Awkwardly he slung his arms around her slim waist and rested his hands on the small of her back to secure her position against him. His head dipped down so that his lips brushed softly across the top of her head. "Hisana," he murmured in reply.

The couple held each other for a few too-brief seconds before Hisana quickly withdrew, embarrassed by her straightforwardness. Her slender hand shoved a stray lock of hair behind her ear and she backed away from her guest.

"Um… I'm sorry about that. It's just… it's been so long since we last saw each other."

"It has," said Byakuya, who could not help but be slightly disheartened by the separation. "Are you surprised to see me?"

"Not really," she answered. "Mr. Ichimaru told me that someone important was coming, and for some reason my first guess was you."

"Is that so." He lowered his head and stared at their socked feet, not knowing what to say. Yes, he had been longing for a reunion, but he never thought of what they would say or discuss once it had happened. He wished that time would stop for the two of them and that they would do nothing else but stand quietly together and relish their company without worry of limitation.

His digits wrapped around her left hand and lifted it to eye level. "You're so thin, Hisana. Have you been eating well?"

"I have," she reassured but her quick and automatic response aroused suspicion. "I mean, I don't eat much but I'm rarely hungry. I guess I'm just a little tired."

"Tired would be an understatement. You look absolutely exhausted. Do you still have nightmares?" He ran his thumbs over the protruding knuckles, disliking how the soft skin stretched tightly over them.

"I do," she admitted. "But it's nothing to worry about. The mistress lets me rest whenever I need to."

Byakuya did not respond instantaneously, waiting for the elaboration about her ill dreams that would never come. He was under the impression that he would not be hearing any confessions from Hisana for a long while. He understood that she was clandestine in nature when the topic revolved around her personal burdens.

He sighed and dropped her feathery hand, his concerns about said person not yet mollified. Noticing this, Hisana tried to lead the conversation on a less somber tangent.

"Well, is there any special reason why you've returned?" she asked.

"Not really, just some business." The imperturbable yakuza's occupation was a furtive subject as well.

Hisana smiled sympathetically, her curiosity not dissipating but was uneager to pursue the matter if it provoked inquietude. "Just like last time, huh?"

There was no reply. Hisana's inquisition reminded him of his two subordinates, most likely still milling around in the lobby. If he was gone too long they might get dubious…

"Hisana," he said reluctantly. "I'm afraid I can't stay too long."

Her gentle smile sloped into a small frown and her eyelids drooped. "I see."

The shift of her expression was like the blow of a sword, his resolve cracked and he was tempted to throw duty to the wind before his rigorously-embedded levelheadedness kicked in and tried to disregard the emotion with little success. Life was cruel indeed, they had been together for barely a minute and could not continue doing so lest their relationship be discovered. If they were found together, his family would see to it that they never spoke again to each other again.

On a second thought, he was no longer under the family. He was above, the head, the leader. At this point his word was law, and by default it was required of the clan to either bend to his will or be banished or executed. This gave him a marvelous idea.

"I don't know when'll be the next time we will meet again," he pressed on. "But if all goes well, this wait will not be as arduous as the last. Can you read and write?"

Hisana blinked, uncertain of where he was getting to but thought she had a faint idea. "A little. As long as the characters aren't too hard."

"And you are familiar with the Hakuchou Mart by the newspaper stand, correct?"

"Why yes," she replied, still nonplussed by this trivia. "I can see it from my window."

"Good," he nodded. "I will send one of my men to stand at the street corner from time to time. You will be able to recognize him. He carries a zanpakutou on his right thigh. The sheath is dark green. His hair is mostly cropped except for his bangs. As for clothes, his favorite suit is gray with a blue tie, but there are times when he doesn't wear it. If you bow once and nod your head respectively, then he will know that it he shall either give or take a letter. This way I can write to you and vice versa."

"You're… going to send one of your aides just for that? Will it be too much trouble for them?" Hisana did not mind the idea of keeping in touch this way but at the same time did not wish to pose as an inconvenience.

"It is perfectly all right. After all, they need something to do," reassured Byakuya. "However, you must not speak or communicate with him at all if our correspondence is to be kept safe and sound. All you shall do with him is handle mail."

Hisana nodded, the abrupt seriousness in his tone making her feel uneasy. "I understand."

Byakuya's eyes softened and he raised his hand to cup her pale cheek, his fingertips sliding underneath her black tresses. When she leaned into his palm, his adversity toward leaving intensified.

"I will…" His voice broke off, uncomfortable about vocalizing his underlying affection.

"Miss you," she finished for him, her delicate smile returning. Her thin fingers then grasped his wrist tenderly and peeled his hand away slowly. "Do you really have to go so soon?"

Byakuya averted his gaze again, unable to look at her melancholy face.

"I'm afraid so."

---

"For a bathroom break, he sure is taking a while," said Tsubame, pacing around in the lobby. Her junior counterpart had already taken a seat on one of the hard polished benches covered by a crimson cushion.

"You don't suppose he…"

"Was jumped? Of course not. He's the strongest out of anyone in the clan. He's probably just sprucing," she insured.

"I was going to say 'got lost'." Minato leaned back and stretched out his gangly legs. "But he doesn't have a lousy sense of direction either."

"Exactly," she declared. "And how does one get lost in a dingy place like this? You don't."

"Some do, but I didn't," said Byakuya, stepping around the corner from where he disappeared earlier. Both guards snapped up to attention.

"Boss!" they saluted.

Byakuya ignored them in his own dismissive fashion and continued to walk on, prompting his people to follow. It was only until when they made it past the gate they entered that Minato struck up the nerve to question his master's whereabouts.

"Um, sir, you didn't encounter any delays or inconveniences, did you?" He nearly regretted asking the question as soon as it slipped from his mouth, and braced himself for a stern reprimand.

It never came. "No, not really." Byakuya's purple eyes slid over to Minato's direction. "As a matter of fact, I was making preparations. I have a mission for you."

"You—I—for me?" Minato lamely stuttered, completely caught off his guard. Tsubame raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Yes, for you," continued Byakuya. He stopped walking and so did his posse. "Do you see Hakuchou Mart across the street here?"

"Ah, yes, yes I do," Minato replied. "What of it?"

"This is where you shall stand two days from now at approximately nine o' clock in the morning. A young woman with short dark hair will approach you for the parcel I am about to give you. If she has anything to offer you, you will take it and relay it to me. All of these packages are to be kept secret, the two of you shall not speak or converse. The only way to ensure that the packages have not been intercepted is to make sure they have not been opened."

"I... I understand, boss," Minato nodded slowly but excitedly. "How will I know who the woman is?"

"She will greet you first with a bow and a nod. Then you shall reciprocate the nod," instructed Byakuya. "This exchange of information is crucial, the future of the family depends on it. For you, the less you know, the better it will be."

"Understood," nodded Minato once more.

"This woman… is she a spy?" asked Tsubame. "What exactly is she doing?"

"The less you know, the better," replied Byakuya patiently. "Now, come." His stride resumed, beckoning his underlings to follow.

_**Sorry for the short and hasty chapter, it was only a third of what I planned on writing. Because I'm moving residence I didn't have much time to finish off the piece but I didn't want to leave you fellows hanging either.**_

_**Also, this story is going on hiatus for hopefully not too long. To those who stuck with me, thank you!**_


	5. The Progression

_**What is this, I don't even—**_

_**Yes folks, after a year of AWOL, SS is back! It pains me to say that real life and demotivation got in the way and that I no longer had any inspiration to continue this fic and eventually lost interest. And then all of a sudden, I felt like writing again! I don't know why but I'm glad I did. I've sincerely missed writing and I'm afraid a nosedive in my style will be the price for such a self-serving hiatus. If no one cares about reading this anymore, I completely understand. I still think it would be such a shame to leave this plot bunny to die, so I at least want to finish what I started. To those of you who plan on following the story no matter how long it takes, I owe you my internet heart and soul.**_

_**Since it's been a while and it would be a major pain in the anus to reread what happened in the past few chapters, here's a brief recap:**_

The Kuchiki, Ukitake, Kyouraku, Unohana, Kurotsuchi, Komamura, and Tousen clans have ruled Seireitei for nearly a century. Their reign is threatened by none other than Sousuke Aizen, who wishes to gain power and trust of the people by wiping out the yakuza. The clan heads are not so trusting of Aizen's agenda and assembled together to discuss Aizen's true intentions. Politics and allegiances begin to boil, but what of personal lives? Such urgent times demand Byakuya's full attention as boss of the Kuchiki clan, but will he still be able to remain with his one and only forbidden love? What is Aizen planning? How will the yakuza eliminate him? Who will control Seireitei in the end?

_**If you want to find out, I recommend you keep reading!**_

ooo

As the midnight hours gradually bled into a faint dawn, the customers of the Blue Crane dissipated into their homes, some merrily intoxicated and others weary but satisfied. The gates and doors were locked for closing hours, but one visitor remained.

"How many were there?"

"Hmm, I'd say no more than fifteen."

"Have you any details of their discussion?"

"No, but Tousen should be sending us a full account shortly."

"Of course, of course." There was a gentle _tink_ as the teacup was placed on the polished counter, its contents swirling with the small impact.

"I suppose I should expect meddling soon anyhow. I'll reinforce security measures."

"That would be wise, boss."

"They're not to be underestimated though. I've already stashed it away."

"Oh, so then you've found someone capable of withstanding it after all."

"Mmm." The soothing hot liquid was slurped from the cup. "A toast to Kisuke Urahara, of course."

"It seems that you've got another long day ahead of you, boss. You'd better get some sleep."

"Ah, that is indeed true. Good day then, Mr. Ichimaru."

The stool creaked when its burden was relinquished, and the Blue Crane's door slid open and shut for the last time in the wee hours of the day.

ooo

It was late morning when Hisana finally awoke, and she floundered out of her futon once she stole a glance at the time provided by the shabby but well-ticking clock. With a few expert strokes honed by daily routine, she draped herself with her frayed uniform and brushed her hair into submission. Hastily but appropriately dressed, she almost collided with a groggy Toushirou still lingering in the flat before completing her dash out the door.

"Gottagobye," breathed Hisana and disappeared down the steps. Toushirou was shaken from his half-asleep stupor and just stared at the freshly slammed door.

Hisana had spent the entire night sweeping up shards of broken teacups and hustling back and forth from the store with boxes of fresh whole ones purchased with restaurant funds. As the prices added up and merged into a vicious behemoth that could only be quelled with a meaty sum, Hisana dreaded how emaciated the next several paychecks would become. She knew that her friend Hinamori was probably more distressed about the accident, considering that she had to juggle family support and tuition for the Shinigami Academy.

After skidding to a halt in the kitchen, Hisana scanned the workers, searching for the familiarly blonde co-manager that barked orders encouragingly but not threateningly. There was oversleeping to apologize for, orders to be obeyed, and work to begin—

"You're finally up, Sleeping Beauty," called an elderly man, chopping ginger neatly with strong arms despite the dull knife. "Are you going to stand there flipping your head everywhere or help cater the customers? It looks like everyone felt like having brunch today."

"Oh, yes," Hisana replied and plucked an apron from the knee-high shelf sitting next to the kitchen's backdoor. "Where is Miss Rangiku?"

"Shopping with Iwata at the Hakuchou. We're out of eggs."

"I see." After tying the worn apron around her slender waist, Hisana fitted her feet into a pair of slippers and crossed the kitchen towards the dining area. Hakuchou Mart. A man. A promise. Byakuya… the unexpected reward awaiting her at the end of yesterday's labors. She had fallen asleep, exhausted in the back courtyard, and woke to find Byakuya standing before her. Her cheeks flushed pink and her lip tightened as she recalled how closely he stood next to her, how light his scent was, how deep his voice hummed, how his stoic face contrasted the affection shimmering in his eyes, and how they held each other for far too briefly…

"Hisana, haul ass!"

"Yes sir!" Hisana's woke up from her daydream and evaded her busying co-waitress,

scrambling to the wooden pedestal guarding the front door to wait her hungry and impatient guests.

ooo

Spying on Sousuke Aizen was difficultly easy. His popularity attracted much media attention, so it was not unusual for reporters to come randomly streaming into his office, asking questions and taking pictures with the bulky cameras that journalists did not seem to mind lugging all over creation. While access to his presence was rarely the problem, it was scratching underneath the surface that proved to be the real challenge.

Aizen's wit and intellect shined through the stacks of reports and transcripts Byakuya received from his men masqueraded as reporters. He furrowed his brow as he thumbed through the volumes, discontent with how he waved aside every trick question and trap with nebulous answers.

"_Q: So, what Mr. Aizen means by a counterattack is launching a campaign? What type? Mr. Aizen would not think of openly fighting the yakuza with arms, would he?_

_Inspector-General Aizen: Good heavens, no! We are dedicated to cleansing the city, not starting a domestic war. We are committed to carrying out the wishes of the average citizen, which I believe would serve the common good altogether. We need the streets to be safe again, and will do so by taking our authority seriously and eradicating all signs of corruption._

_Q: What do you mean, 'taking our authority seriously'?_

_Inspector-General Aizen: No more bribes. No more babying the yakuza, it's time to start getting lawyers ready and reviewing our binding kidous. Arms would only be used if we have no other choice._

_Q: And what could deprive you of other choices?_

_Inspector-General Aizen: When the yakuza try to muscle their way out of justice, of course._

_Everyone started clapping at this. I don't know why._"

Byakuya did not know why either. There was a subtle amount of threat that lay in Aizen's responses, but his words were taken by the public as valiant oaths of righteousness and benevolence. Did Aizen really believe he was a knight christened with shining armor, or was he plotting something contemptible and malicious? Either interpretation spelled trouble for the yakuza's grip on Seireitei's leash.

Byakuya's sigh harmonized with the soft _flap _of the packet as it was tossed lightly back onto the desktop. He leaned on the back rest flanking the zabuton on which he knelt and kneaded the hoods of his eyes with his fingers, drawing them slowly together until his nose bridge obstructed their juncture. He gazed lazily at the clock across his traditionally adorned office and was dismayed to ascertain that it was only 11:46 AM. He had been awake for six hours and forty-six, no, forty-seven minutes. He faced the scrolls and columns of documents arranged tidily around the desk space—the reports he finished reading were stacked on the left, and the ones anticipating his examination were piled on the right and overflowing to the top. The packet he recently reviewed sat in the center along with a brush and an ink stone bowed against its reservoir. Duty urged him to complete the task he had been slaving at for hours already, but the warm summer breeze that had just wafted in beckoned him to look outside.

The sun sat in its high-noon throne, threatening to scorch any subject who dared to stay outside for too long, but the eaves of the building shaded Byakuya from said wrath. There was not the slightest wisp of cloud accenting the aquamarine sky and several stray leaves were wildly but gracefully buffeted by the same breeze that had greeted Byakuya. He studied the canvas of blue whose emptiness seemed to exaggerate its size as it spread over Soul Society. Perhaps on a different part of the canvas the clouds had clustered together to torment earth-dwellers with rain and lightning. Even so, everyone in Seireitei watched the same patch of heaven, everyone including…

Byakuya drew a sheet of rice paper from the stationery shelf near the end of his desk and swept the finished packet to the left. He had yet to write Hisana and regretted that he could not have completed the task earlier. After blending the ground ink and water into a desirable tone, he paused in midair as he was about to dip his brush into the cavity. What would he write? He put the brush back down and stared at the sheet as though expecting flawless rhetorics to manifest themselves. He had written plenty of essays and reports (and secretly, poems) the duration of his life, but never before had he written a love letter.

Remembering the blue, blue sky, he picked his pen up again and attempted his first love letter.

_Dearest Hisana,_

_The day on which I am writing this beholds a deep aquamarine_

He stopped and inspected the characters that he had weaved together. He had to keep in mind Hisana's reading proficiency… was aquamarine too hard of a word? Would she able to discern the characters? Was he being too formal? What would he write about after the weather? Would she think his words too dull? Too ardent?

He dipped the brush into the well, saturated it heavily with ink, and proceeded to blot out the words. Uncertain and wishing only for perfection, he crumpled up the paper then threw it into a wastebasket and started anew with a fresh sheet.

ooo

"Hisana, you wouldn't believe this!" Momo's shrill voice bordered on euphoric hysteria and corrupted the apartment's twilight serenity. Hisana's afternoon shift was over hours ago and she was situated in her conventional position by the windowsill, accompanied by her sewing kit. The kimono she had just mended had ripped at the seam again and she nearly impaled her finger with the needle when Hinamori abruptly burst through the door.

"Quiet, I can't hear the TV!" hollered Hitsugaya. He was lying on his belly in front of the fuzzy black and white screen with some of the workers' toddler children.

"Momo, don't startle me like that," exhaled Hisana and set down her work respectfully. "What happened? You're back later than usual. Night shift will start in ten minutes."

"I know! I stayed late afterschool… and it was worth it! Aizen was there! _Aizen!_ He was interviewing the sixth years and might accept some of us for his police force once we graduate! Eeee!" Hinamori spun around; the relentless revolutions nearly sent her knapsack flying. "I think he liked me! At least, he didn't say anything bad, and kept asking me questions! Don't you think he's interested in my capabilities? Huh?"

"Well…" Hisana was unsure of how to respond. She assumed that Hinamori had good grades in the academy even though she had never really witnessed her performance before. "Did he seem impressed?"

"Yup! At least, he seemed impressed when I told him that I was able to skip years three and four. Plus, I have perfect scores in kidou. It's harder to master than you think, y'know?"

"I know. That's great, Momo." Hisana smiled supportively. "Maybe you'll be able to work for him. When do you graduate?"

"The sixth years officially graduate in spring, but there's a competency exam we can take starting fall. If I pass, I get to graduate early!" Hinamori popped into the bedroom and began to change uniforms. "So if I seem really busy for the next couple of weeks, sorry about that! I gotta study hard and then Shirou and I can get out of here!" she called through the thin walls.

"I'll wish you luck!" Hisana called back and took up her needle and wounded dress. Her emotions swirled into a welter as Hinamori's approaching leave abashed her. She was undoubtedly happy for her friend's success, but envious and saddened as well. Despite having the façade of a bubbly and innocent young woman, Hinamori was full of fire and strength— passionate to the core and carried on with confidence, something Hisana lacked. When Hisana thought deeply about it, Hinamori reflected her younger self when she entered Soul Society with a baby sister on her back. The harsh life of Inuzuri broke her youthful resilience and pride, causing her to abandon her sister in the race for survival. And now, she pondered, she would be more like her forsaken sibling as her friends plowed through the ranks of society, all hoping for a better life. After all that she had selfishly done, didn't she deserve to be left behind?

"Oh, and don't worry, Hisana," said Hinamori as she emerged from the room they shared, fully clad in her waitress garb. "I hate the manager and this tiny hole and everything, but I'll still come and visit, as long as you're around."

Hisana gazed at her and blinked once. "You don't know how much that means to me, Momo," she smiled wistfully.

Embarrassed by the solemn turn of the conversation, Hinamori grinned back cheerfully. "C'mon, let's get to work or Miss Rangiku will noogie our temples. And Shirou, you had better not be still watching the tube when I get back tonight."

"As if there's anything else to do around here," muttered Hitsugaya in reply, eyes still transfixed on the television boasting a cartoon gorilla chasing an equally two-dimensional tiger. The children shrieked with laughter when the black and gray feline fell of a black and gray cliff but Hitsugaya remained unamused.

ooo

The sky remained clear throughout the evening and night but was engulfed in sheer darkness since the disappearance of the waning moon. The lights of the city guided Soi Fon as she leapt from rooftop to rooftop, heading straight to the municipal hall. The black garments and boots that she wore served as active camouflage concerning the inky midnight and she bounded off tiles and poles with silence that would belittle a cat's. Her visage was masked in a black shroud wrapped deftly around her scalp and face, leaving a considerable gap for her eyes to comfortably peer into her increasingly bellicose surroundings.

She landed near the gates circumscribing premises of the hall and promptly dodged behind a statue before a nearby sentry could notice her. When the coast was clear she mounted the fence and sprang away, her speed and stealth eluding the attention of other guards surrounding the area.

She easily scaled the pillar of the Roman-styled city hall, but the true fun was about to begin. Safe on her perch high above the view of the sentinels, she explored the rooftop of the edifice before she found what she was looking for—a skylight. Her hand dug into her waist pouch and withdrew a blank white tag. Grasping it with her thumb and palm, she backed away and extended her right arm, her left hand grasping her wrist. It would be recklessly foolish to enter the skylight without checking for a barrier kidou first.

"Gate of the west, visitor from the east. Show yourself and undo!" she hissed under her breath. The tag shot from her palm and stuck to the pane, glowing golden for several seconds before fading. The window sprang open as though on a hinge and Soi Fon slipped into the opening. She frowned beneath her veil. Disengaging the spell took no time at all and was not strenuous as she had imagined.

She splayed out her arms and legs in the tight space and carefully crawled down, stopping to poke her head out slightly into the hallway that lay under her. After checking all ways for danger, she dropped lightly on the cushy carpet and immediately dove behind a potted plant to resume a thorough scan of the hallway. It was copious in terms of height and length and the walls were intermitted with windows hidden behind luxurious curtains, occasional wall scrolls and paintings, and potted plants like the one she crouched behind. Soi Fon looked down the hall and up, finding no watchmen in sight and wondered which way would lead to a staircase or some means of descent. Is she remembered correctly, Ukitake said Aizen's office was on the fourth floor…

Choosing to go down the hallway, Soi Fon sprinted from her sanctuary but soon found her ears flooded with a high-pitch ringing. She muffled a yelp and felt her legs knocking together. Her eyesight swam but she nevertheless spun around quickly enough to parry the blow of a sword with her own and struggled against the force of the collision, her breath heavy and faltering.

Soi Fon glared wide-eyed at her opponent. "You…" she began but felt a finger tap her forehead.

"Sleep now," the voice said. The ringing intensified and Soi Fon's knees and consciousness gave out. Her body slumped to the floor and the sword was sheathed.

"It will all be over soon."

_**Guess who popped Soi Fon and get a cookie if you're right.**_

_**Sorry if there are any grammar/spelling/whatever mistakes. I'm too tired to proofread properly and will upload edits if it must be done. Next chapter will come next week at earliest and in ten years at latest.**_

_**Also, to all you fanfiction lovers out there—there is a Byakuya/Hisana fan contest at Livejournal! Check it out! We really need more participants. Try typing in byaku_hisa dot livejournal dot com.**_


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